


CONTROL

by lappland



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Ballet, Eating Disorders, This is terrible and just ugh BLARGHT, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lappland/pseuds/lappland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knives leave scars, starving makes you faint, puking hurts, but his hands could still be felt. Reclaim what was made, reclaim what you need, reclaim what you once called YOURS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CONTROL

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't even done but seriously who gives a fuck

She threw her legwarmers to the other side of the room before the next song started. The first notes rang threw the bare room. Turning her face to the mirror, she stepped up en pointe. Straighten knees, lengthen neck, relax arms. The tapping from the new shoes echoed against the walls. Attempting a grand jéte and looking like a flying freezer. Worthless worthless worthless.

Her arms looked fat, way too fat. And she couldn't dance with those legs. Legs that made her look like a horse running over the stage, legs that could barely lift her long enough to complete what the other girls in the group could do with ease. They talked about her. "I think I should lose a kilo before the spring performance. But, at least I'm not the fattest in here." Eyes directed at her. Giggling.  _Worthless worthless worthless._ That day she had an apple right before class and fainted on her bike on the way to the bus. Still not good enough. 

The choreography was easy but she was not made for it she was fat and disgusting and used and everyone who saw her noticed. When she was 14 she used to dance burlesque too. But the boys in the front row watched her in a way she did not enjoy and her creepy uncle said that he would love to see that everyday. It reminded her too much of them too much of them too much of them. 

The next term she picked up modern instead. The class finished around 9 pm, and by the time she arrived at the bus station people like Them had arrived. A shout there, a grab there, a conversation there. Once someone had tried to bring her into the nearby bushes. She fled and fled and missed her bus and her mother was so so angry. 

Drop the shoulders, extend the leg. 

She needed to train more, she was awful. The worst dancer, the one who was put in the back. She was too fat to be a dancer. Nobody believed her when she said "I dance", they laughed and then asked "Seriously?". She started after They had left her alone, with their compliments and words and pictures and touches she wished she could scrub away but no amount of hot water was enough. No matter how red her skin became after a long shower she could still feel their hands. Air slipping into her brain, strange creatures welcoming her to a different world where she could hide. The creatures said that she could let it out with the flow of the red inside of her and she refused. You need control? Show them that it is your body. Take it control it change it to your wish. And dance was all about control. 

Falling, hitting her hip into the hard floor. She swore and stayed there. 

But her control was at ground level and it would be so easy to go back to them. Their finger prints prominent on her skin if you looked carefully. Clouds covering the truth, bubbles of being hungry standing as a wall between losing and winning. 

Now she was losing, she was losing herself physically, she was losing herself to her mind. Her mind could be nice if she behaved but if she did something FORBIDDEN she would not sleep peacefully that night. The branches outside her window would curl and poke threw her window, letting in the cold air and with that the Mean ones. The ones that would suck themselves onto her brain and stay there, making her lose the ability to walk without black clouds covering her sight every minute. If she couldn't think then They would not sneak themselves into her day and she would be safe. 

Tying up the ribbons and walking back with her shoes to her bag. Picking out her flat shoes instead. 

Hours needed to be spent because hours were spent on eating and being disgusting. She was disgustingly used, and disgustingly fat. She could only remove one of them and she would oh dear she would. 

 

 

 


End file.
